


And To Comics With Love

by Big_Diesel



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Angst and Feels, Art, Artists, Comic, Comic-Con, Condoms, Cosplay, Cousins, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drawing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, Fan Comics, Femdom, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Geek Love, Geeks, Geeky, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Light-Hearted, Manga & Anime, Nerdiness, POV First Person, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Scares, Romance, Self-Denial, Slice of Life, Teen Angst, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, Underage Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Writers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Diesel/pseuds/Big_Diesel
Summary: Lincoln is an aspiring comic book artist. With his best friend, Clyde and his girlfriend, Ronnie Anne, the trio strives to make a comic that somebody can be published. However, the aspirations are tested when Ronnie Anne gives Lincoln important news that he did not see coming. Will this important news derail the plans of his future? Find out on And To Comics With Love.





	1. Jack of All Trades (Part I)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys. I hope you all enjoy this new story I have started. For the record, this is my first time writing about a person who displays interest in pursuing a career as a mangaka/comic book artist. If I have made any mistakes, then I sincerely apologize. Anyway, enjoy the story and Happy Reading!

Far back as I can remember, I was dubbed the "Jack of All Trades." If I can think back. Really, really think back, I can picture myself standing before my classmates in the first grade on Career Day. Rocking back and forth with my hands tied behind my back, I proudly told the class that I wanted to be an astronaut. Quickly, I switched it to detective. Then, ghost hunter, video game tester, comic book artist. Going back and forth with the change of careers caused a laughable stir with my classmates. My teacher did not find it so funny. She made me write lines until my hands cramped. Sitting on the blacktop basketball court, watching the students run around and frolic; running and chasing each other with tag; playing on the monkey bars, the see-saw, and the like. What did I have to write on my lines?

_I am a Jack of All Trades_

_I am a Jack of All Trades_

_I am a Jack of All Trades_

A suitable nickname for a person who has the gift of gab. Excuse me, the gift of versatility. Thinking back, I know it was because I wanted to have the grasp of knowledge in my hands. To think quickly on my feet. To be able to save a friend from whatever trouble come what may. To be able to take care of my parents. To take care of my younger sisters and my older sisters as well. I know what you are thinking. Why separate the bunch if they are all of your sisters? Well, the reason why I say this is because there is such strong curvature on how siblings operate. Being the middle child of eleven, it is important to know their likes and dislikes; how they wake up in the morning; what kind of food do they like; who can they sit with when we are in the car. Those kinds of things to recognize and when worst comes to worst; and trust me, it will happen, they will have my support.

Once again, the "Jack of All Trades" is in effect.

But that is a story saved for another time. I don't want to go any further into details about my sisters. You still have to know how I am and what makes me who I am. So, let me continue my story if you will.

By the time I began the fifth grade, I have been heavily invested in pursuing the career of being a comic book artist. It was a Saturday morning when I pulled out my father's old video player and came across some old _X-Men_ cartoons. I spent my entire day indulged in the graphics of the show. Everything about the characters was detailed to a tee. From the body figures to the development of these characters. I became overwhelmed with the history of Wolverine, Jean Grey, and Cyclops that I was in tears. You become moved with these characters that you began thinking that they were real. That afternoon, I pulled out a notebook and began drawing characters. They were lackluster and did not have any life to them, but everything has its roots.

That notebook became the first volume of notebooks that turned into a multitude of volumes. It started from drawing Wolverine to other Marvel characters. Eventually, I have expanded into DC fandom and manga territory.

Manga served as a better outlet for me. After reading stories like _Death Note_ , _Bakuman_ , _Battle Royale_ , _InuYasha_ , and my personal favorite, _Assassination Classroom_ , the storylines and the art made me gravitate in the pursuit of that path. At the end of my seventh-grade year, I began posting images of my art into different websites; entered them into contests; and everything in between.

Unfortunately, I didn't win. However, the name of Lincoln Loud was somewhere in the eyes of who enjoyed manga and comics.

Around when I was in the eighth grade, I have turned my bedroom into a makeshift studio. I can't even remember how much work I put into making the studio. Washing cars, cutting lawns, walking dogs, performing clown acts with Luan, and feeding Aunt Ruth's cats. Backbreaking work so that I could purchase the materials for my artwork.

I studied artwork from Stan Lee to Gene Colan to Jim Lee. My intentions were to incorporate American and Japanese influences together to make a blend. My foundation was based on Japanese manga, but the premise was American comics. Around that time, my best friend Clyde became my assistant. He didn't have the same passion as I did, but I could be myself around him. He served as good company and got me anything I needed when I was unable to. I have taught him to use proper ink for filling panel pages. At least, he was good at that.

At the same time, I even allowed my girlfriend, Ronnie Anne to join me. Even through middle school, Ronnie Anne and I remained an item. When entering middle school, we were split into different classes. So, I was unable to see her as much. However, we made up after school and in the studio. When finding out I was going to make comics for a living, she instantly became intrigued. To make it better, she said that nothing makes great comics than having a script writer. So, Ronnie Anne's position in my studio was being the author of my works.

At the beginning, we were doing small sketches. Not even worthy of being call one-shots. We were trying to put our foot in the door. We wanted to make a name for ourselves. I couldn't forget the first comic we released as a trio. It is still much of a blur. I think it was about a superhero's conflict with a villainess. Honestly, it was based on me and Ronnie Anne's tumultuous beginning. We put our comic on various websites under the names of our alias. I was Ace Savvy, Clyde was One-Eyed Jack, and Ronnie Anne was May Eye.

Our first comic was met with mixed reviews. There was more negative than positive. We were bummed out, but one review caught our attention. _The young teenaged trio displayed us a candid picture of something that is overused and overplayed. However, it is refreshing to see the details of handwritten and hand drawing returning to this generation. We can't determine the fate of this group. But, if they can continue, then they have no choice but to reach the upper echelon._ The critic came from the University Press publishing company. For us being young teens, this gave us the inspiration to continue our work.

Our weekends, our holidays, and even our summers were spent dedicated to making comics. In particular, it was manga. The original English-language manga market was a small one but had a well-known notable fanbase. We used that as an advantage to get ourselves in the market. We continued to draw and write our stories even as we entered high school.

It was freshman year when I moved into Lori and Leni's old room. Lori and Leni were in college and managed to share an apartment. I turned my old bedroom into a full studio. By that time, me, Clyde, and Ronnie Anne were taking our passion for manga seriously. Clyde went from filling panels to creating backdrops and drawing backgrounds. Ronnie Anne began studying Japanese and starting incorporating their onomatopoeia. She took a writing class as an elective so that she can perfect her craft. Of course, I had to biggest role of drawing the characters. From drawing facial expressions, body language, and the like. We all have saved money to invest in software that can help us get better with animation. We never used it in our comics. It just served as aides for me whenever I draw. We did our hardest to return to the days of its former glory.

We were a team. Who knew that we were going to stronger our bonds in this? As we continued, we all had one purpose in mind: to make a _name_. If Ronnie Anne studied this correctly, we wanted to get published in a magazine.

And this is where our story is going to make a turn.

It is the second to last period before we are done for the day. And makes last period exciting is that it is Art class. What a great way to conclude the day by being in your favorite class. I reach for my backpack and I am walking out of the door. As I get ready to leave, I am stopped by my English teacher.

"Lincoln, could you come here for a second," says my teacher with a gentle voice.

Mrs. Aoyama is one of the coolest teachers of Royal Woods Senior High School. She isn't that much older than us, but that doesn't deter her from teaching a bunch of teenagers. She is an explorer. She has traveled the world and is able to relate to us. What makes her exciting is that she is a huge manga fan. She is also a fanfic writer. Of course, she doesn't tell us her alias, but it is safe to say that her material is probably not safe for work. What I also like about her is that she believes in my dream of being a manga artist. She doesn't scoff me or belittles my dream like my other teachers. So, whenever she has something for me, I have no problem doing it.

"Hey Mrs. A, what's up," I ask her while I keeping my eye on the clock. I only have five minutes before my next class. Although I enjoy spending time with Mrs. A, but I also enjoy my art class.

"I wanted to show you your paper on Hitler's Germany," she says to me. I see my score. I can't say I am surprised. Of course, it shows a huge C on it.

"You have provided me great detail, but it is quite lackluster," she tells me.

"What can I say," I tell her. "Writing is not my thing," I tell her this without disrespect. I didn't care for writing. That is why I allow Ronnie Anne to do it for me. I still don't have the heart to tell her that Ronnie Anne helped me with the paper.

"If you spend more time writing," she pauses before displaying my small doodle sketches on the back page of the paper. "Than drawing, then you can make a better grade."

"Yes ma'am," I tell her.

"Look, Lincoln," she says before sitting down. "I don't discourage from drawing. I want you to do it. But, I want you to continue taking this class seriously." She walks to the computer. She waves her hand to come to her direction. She shows my grades.

"The computer shows your progress of being a B-C student," she tells me. "The classes that you are doing fine are in PE and Art."

"Well," I say. "It's not that I don't take the other classes seriously. But, I just have a stronger passion for my work."

She nods her head. "Lincoln, I want you to focus on your schoolwork. Manga can wait. Trust me." She hands me a piece of paper. "There is a comic book convention coming up. They are doing a competition on the best artwork. There is a prize for best in show."

"Yes ma'am," I say. "What's the intention?"

"There is a $50 entry free," she tells me. "There are rumors of publishing companies planning to come to this competition." She displays a smirk. "I can waive the fee for you if you make a deal with me."

Mrs. A knows me like a book. I have already stretched my funds out with my parents. I don't have the heart to get Clyde and Ronnie Anne to do it. She knows that I would put myself in anything to have a name.

"What do I have to do," I ask her.

She hands me my paper. "Make this paper great and I will make this fee waived. Wakarimasu ka?"

"Hai, wakarimasu," I say to her before jokingly bowing.

"Enjoy art," she tells me before returning to the computer.

I am getting ready to step out before she calls me again. "Listen, Lincoln," she tells me. "I haven't seen Ronnie Anne in a couple of days. Is she sick?"

"Yeah, she is," I tell her. "Hasn't been feeling well in a couple of days. Is there something you need me to bring her."

"Yes, could you," she asks.

Mrs. A gives me some material for Ronnie Anne before I leave for art class. The hallways are silent. I know I am about a few minutes late for class. I know my teacher is going to kill me. And I forgot to ask Mrs. A for a hall pass. I am going to overlook it because it is Friday and my fee for the upcoming competition is being waived.

_Mental note: look at the details on what I need for the competition. I have done many comics in the past, but all have been shy of a one-shot. This can be a great opportunity to put this into effect. I need to definitely get in touch with Clyde and Ronnie Anne as soon as I can._

_Mental note completed._

I go into art class. Of course, I am getting the stink-eye from my art teacher. Mr. Turner is a real heckler of tardiness. He always tells me, _your art is two-thirds of perfection if you can get your one-third ass to class on time_. It is not often to have a teacher who curses. Welcome to the wonderful world of tenure, I have thought.

I put my backpack down next to my canvas. Next to me is Clyde. We fist bump as I look at my empty canvas.

"Today's theme is neo-classicism," he whispers to me.

"Crap," I whisper back. "I forgot to look at the email he sent us about it."

"Don't worry," he responds. "I got you cover."

I see the taped picture of an example piece of neo-classicism. "Clyde, you lifesaver," I tell him.

I begin painting on my work when Clyde tries to get my attention. "Lincoln," he says to me. "Have you checked on Ronnie Anne?"

"Not today. I didn't want to disturb her."

"She was really sick that day. Wasn't she?"

"Yeah. She was blowing chunks. She almost puked on our sketches."

"Yeah. Maybe it could have displayed surrealism."

We both laugh but caught the look of our Mr. Turner's stink-eye. We quiet down.

"I am going to give her a call today," I tell him. "I will stop by the store to give her some medicine and some fluids."

"Aren't you a sweet boyfriend," he replies while puckering his lips at me.

I shake my head humorously. "Yeah, we weirdos clean up nice."

I return to work until I get a notice on my phone. It is from Ronnie Anne. I conceal it so that my teacher doesn't notice.

_Hey, babe. How are you?_

_Still not good._

_I am sorry. I am still worried about you. Are you okay?_

_I am, I am. Try not to worry too much. I am okay._

_Just checking is all. Is there anything you need?_

_Yeah, could you stop by the pharmacy on the way back?_

_Yeah, sure. Do you need medicine? Orange juice?_

_Neither of those things._

_Okay, what else do you want?_

_Lincoln, I don't want you to be alarmed. Please don't. I need you more than anything._

_Tell me, baby. Whatever you need, I will make it so._

_Lincoln, I am late._


	2. Jack of All Trades (Part II)

I return my phone back into my pocket. I take strong breaths. Very strong breaths. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. I keep telling myself this as I pick up my pencil to begin my sketch. _The Weeping Woman_ is the sketch that Clyde gave me. I stare into the work of Picasso that gave the former artist his fame. I remember Mrs. A explaining this to our class during our period in World Literature that _The Weeping Woman_ is actually based on the relationship Picasso had with his mistress. Dora Maar was her name. A damsel she was. A damsel she became as he took each stroke of her hair, her nose, her mouth, her skin, her emotions, her everything. A powerful series that kept me engaged in the study of the weeping damsel. I am unsure if or what Picasso nor Dora were thinking when creating this. Did she serve as a muse? Did he need visual aid? When I explain this, I meant did he need some inspiration to create a powerful piece like that?

I etch the outline of the figure. I become delicate, trying my hardest to recapture the moment like Picasso. I picture myself sitting in a room. The room has very good lighting. Maybe a sunroom, perhaps. The window is open, music is playing. None of the music that I enjoy, but music pertaining that era. Beethoven served as the centerpiece of waves throughout the sunroom. Standing before me is the powerful woman that gives me life or light behind this canvas. She stands before me, sitting delicately on the armchair. She displays no emotion. She doesn't look at me. She stares at the window. What could be so important outside that she can't stare at her man in the face. And that what hits me. She is not my woman. She is a mistress. She is just borrowed property.

The more I peer to her, the more I see her tears evacuate her ducts. _She is borrowed property._ She doesn't have all of me, but part of me. Somewhere, my wife and my children are in the meadow waiting for their Picasso to come home. I take a blink and suddenly the woman isn't there. In her stead is the woman who I truly love the most, Ronnie Anne.

Ronnie Anne stands in Dora's place. Her hair, long as a river of silk, rest gently on her lap. Her shorts are no longer there, but wearing a long white dress that covers her legs. Her bronze skin shines against the burning sun. Her eyes gleam with her lukewarm smile. She gives the same position as Dora, but she is completely aware that I am painting her. She takes glances, trying her hardest not to interrupt me. She doesn't say a word, but her body language gives me stronger communication than words could.

 _Dora may have been a weeping woman, but I am not a suffering machine._ Her hands are wrapped tightly around each other. It is neatly placed on her lap. She takes a few breaths before returning to her position. _The weeping woman is torturous, corrupted with the reality of being something she isn't. Confided in the evil and the corrupt of man. To serve as a masterpiece that either she can reap the benefits. She smiles when she is in the room with others, but cries behind the smile. She worships a man that won't never give her full admission to his heart. She weeps because she knows she is just a project. A project that can be teased, manipulated, and use at your disposal._

I drop my paintbrush. The thump makes her turn and faces me. _You wouldn't do that to me, would you?_ She stands and takes gentle, but firm steps to my direction. _I am more than a piece of art. I am designed to serve more than your example. I am the canvas. I am a work of art._ She gets in front of me and caresses my flushed cheeks. _You are the paintbrush that gives me beauty. You can use your tool on how you want to. However, I am the design. Therefore, I am going to use you and how I want to be. Understand?_

I gasp as she presses her face to mine. _I am more than a weeping woman. I am more than that, Lincoln. Picasso may use this as an excuse for his vision, but I am the vision for you. Do you care to make your vision, my vision? Do you care to put away your pride to make a vision for us and us alone? Do you care to make a work of art that can perpetuate even the best of artist?_

I shake my head in agreement as I feel her soft, moistening lips press on my cheek. I close my eyes as I have given her permission to do what she wants to me. _Serve me for you are the paintbrush. You are a work of art. I am a work of art. Serve me, Lincoln._ I am caught in her rapture. She uses my own words against me. Even she is on top of me and begin to disrobe me, I do something that I never expected. I shed a tear.

The bell rings. I was lost in thought. When looking at my canvas, I am looking at _The Weeping Woman_. However, it is Dora who serves as the weeping woman. In the outline of my work, I see Ronnie Anne. I see me. I see us. Is that the vision she was telling me? Is that what she wants?

_I am late._

I am making us. I am making us. I am making us for the seed I have split onto her.

As I gather my things to prepare to go, Clyde nudges my shoulder. "Are you okay, dude," he asks me.

"Yeah, I am okay," I tell her knowing that this is not true. "Just caught a bit of vertigo."

He laughs. "I can imagine. Seems like the bug is catching on to you, too."

I hit him on his shoulder. "Whatever, dude," I said while giving him a plastic smile.

"So, what is your plan for today," he asks me. "Going back to the lab and work on some material?"

"Not right away," I tell him. "In fact, there is somewhere I do want to go. Could you care to come with me?"

"Sure, Linc," replies Clyde. "However, my cousin is picking me up from school today."

"Nuts," I answer. "Then, can I get a ride from you? I need to go to the pharmacy to get something."

"For Ronnie Anne?"

"Yeah."

I sit on the concrete bench in front of the school with Clyde while waiting for his cousin. While waiting, I am still thinking about whether or not should I tell Clyde about Ronnie Anne. I mean, he is my best friend. We don't keep secrets. And this particular secret is not going to be kept for long. As I open my mouth to talk, the sound of loud music enters the driveway of the school.

The sound of boosted aesthetic music escapes from the car. The car is a gray BMW E93. What is fascinating about the car is that on the hood of the car is an image of Mikoto Urabe from _Mysterious Girlfriend X._

The car slows down before going into park. The window goes down. When seeing this, I smile when seeing the familiar person. Clyde has a lot of cousins, but he didn't tell me that this cousin was going to pick him up.

"Hey, Juri. What's up," says Clyde as he opens the door to the backseat. "You can get in the front, Linc." He tells me. I blush because I am getting next to the person I have a secondary crush on.

"What's up, cuzzo," says Juri as she pulls down the mirror to apply her makeup. I notice that she is wearing a t-shirt of _One Piece_ and wearing thigh shorts. I blush because her light creamy complexion and her shirt tightening around her breasts are making me have a dizzy spell.

Suddenly, I feel a hand covering my nose. "Nice to see you too, Linc," she says with a smile before turning on the engine of the car.

The green-eyed, blonde-haired, bronze-skinned beauty is named Juri Aoyama. I met her back when I was twelve years old when she came to stay with Clyde for the summer. Although she was sixteen, she related to us when it came to the love of manga and anime. Juri was and is an otaku. I remember her being obsessed with _Negima_ and _Tenchi Muyo!_ At moment's notice, she always wanted to roleplay through cosplay. A gifted seamstress, she had our costumes ready for anything. And being a good guest, Clyde served to her will. I really did enjoy the time I spent with Juri because she also served as the fuel on my motivation to write.

She, too, is a writer and a comic book writer. However, let me become distinctive in this latter half. When addressing her, she prefers the profession of _mangaka_ instead of comic book artist. Being raised in Japan, she yearned for the desire to become one. Reading shounen, shoujo, and even _shounen-ai_ and _shoujo-ai_ gave her the fuel to make it into a career.

Unlike us, she has established a small following under the pseudonym of Jules. The only reason why she moved to America around three years ago because her mother's time in the military was finished. There is something that I haven't mentioned. Clyde's aunt is my English teacher, Mrs. Aoyama.

"Glad you were able to make time in your schedule to hang with me, Jules," says Clyde.

"Anything for you, cuz," she says as she is driving. She gleams at me. "I am grateful that you have brought Linky along with us." She turns to Clyde. "Is he coming with us to the comic book store?"

"Afraid not, Jules," he tells her while shaking his head. "We have to drop him off at the…."

I interject. "Look, I have no problem going to the comic book store. It is not a big deal."

"Lincoln," says Clyde. "Are you sure? Because earlier…."

"It is no problem, it can wait," I assure him.

"Cool," she says. "Now I have two eye candies around my arm. _Kawaii!_ "

I turn to Clyde. "What's the occasion on going to the comic book store?"

"Did you tell him, Clyde," she asks Clyde with keeping her beautiful smile.

"Tell me what," I ask.

"A rep for Dark Horse Comics is coming to the shop today," answers Clyde. "He is considering to serialized one of her stories."

"Really," I say. "Which one?"

Juri nods her head in disapproval. "I won't say," she tells me. "I want it to be a surprise when we get there."

"Aw, what a gyp," I respond.

"Trust me, Linky," she says to me. "It will be worth the wait. Trust me."

I can never hide my smile from this beautiful goddess. "Alright."

As we continue to drive, my message notification went off. I don't go into my pocket. I already know who it is. For now, just for now, I am going to put it on hold after I come back from the comic book store.

_Mental note: as soon as I leave the comic book store, go to the pharmacy and get a...get a...get a pregnancy test._

_Mental note completed._


	3. Jack of All Trades (Part III)

Clyde puts a few coins in the parking meter. Long enough for us to get our fill of graphic novel entertainment until night falls. Juri looks both ways for cars before grabbing our arms to cross the street. I try not to look at Juri so much, but she is a very beautiful girl. It is not every day that such beauty can be an otaku, and is proud to display it as a badge of honor.

 _The Final Frontier_ is the name of the bookstore. It has served the community for a few years. The owner of the shop is our former elementary school principal, Mr. Huggins. After finding his passion for comics, he retired as an educator and open the bookstore as a way to spend his retirement. Any funds he allocated from his retirement was put into this marvelous bookstore. So, you know that me, Clyde, and Ronnie Anne were there to attend the grand opening. Even Juri was put on display as Wonder Woman. She tried persuading Clyde to be Superman, but he was camera shy. The news and the newspaper were there along with minor celebrities were there to attend the occasion. What made it worthwhile was when the author of the _Ace Savvy_ comics made his appearance to the bookstore. He is my idol and the reason why I have his moniker as a pseudonym. _The Final Frontier_ had and still is the reason for catering me to my dream of being a manga artist.

I hold the door for Juri and Clyde to enter. The sound of the bell alerts Mr. Huggins as he leaves the backroom to the front counter. What I find interesting is that he is no longer wearing the man's uniform. He is rocking a ponytail, long khaki shorts, and a superhero shirt. The shirt varies, but it is something different every day. It makes me happy that even at a later age, there is still hope for those who love what they do.

"Clyde, Lincoln," he says before smiling widely to Juri. "Juri, darling, how are you?"

"I am excellent," replies Juri as she hugs our former principal. "Just happy for this day is all."

He claps his heads. "That is right. The rep of Dark Horse is making his entrance to my store. _My_ store!"

She smiles while still having her arms around Clyde. "You know it." She turns to me and smiles at Clyde. "And having these lovelies with me makes it all the sweeter."

Mr. Huggins looks at Clyde. "This must be exciting for you, Clyde. Your cousin is finally making a _name_."

"Actually, I have yet to make a _name_ ," interjects Juri. She lets go of Clyde and rests her elbows on the counter. She takes a look of the figurines from the _Sailor Moon_ and _Sgt. Frog_ series. She tilts her head before returning to her thought. "A _name_ is something that is garnered from the Japanese. I can't make a _name_ until I get approval by a Japanese publishing company."

"I didn't know there was much of a difference," replies Mr. Huggins as he leans against the wall. "I've always thought that making a name for yourself is all that matters."

I interject now. "Juri is right, Mr. Huggins. Dark Horse is of American notoriety. So, she gets recognized in North America and Europe, possibly in other countries. However, she will get recognize as a comic book artist."

She shakes her head. "Correct, Linky. I want to be a mangaka. Although Dark Horse taking me in is a great start, but I want to be recognized in the Japanese market."

"Don't you have to go out there to be recognized as a mangaka," asks Mr. Huggins.

"You do, but remember, I have Japanese citizenship," she boasts with pride. "Most of my works are in English, but I have works that were originally in Japanese. The works I have in Japanese are not my greatest. It is a clash of sorts, but still working on the kinks."

"One thing is for certain, Jules," says Clyde as he eyes the newest manga books shelves. "You know your work. I hope we can get to your level one day."

"You will, Clyde sweetie, you will," says Juri as she walks next to him and looks with him.

I watch them look while I take a look around. For us comic book artists, this bookstore the closest to San Diego we are going to get on this side of the Midwest. Mr. Huggins ventured through different conventions in America. He has even gone to Japan and Indonesia for networking. I don't have the business savvy like he does, but that is why Clyde better serves in that position. I walk to the row where I knew that the latest edition of _Spider-Man_ and _Deadpool_.

I remembered that Mrs. A told me about the upcoming comic book convention. When I further examined the flyer, I learned that it is going to take place in Detroit in a few months. It will be great, but the deadline for submission is in a few weeks. Before heading to the bookstore, I went online for the details.

There is a three-step process of this competition. I must present a rough draft of my comic. That is due in a few weeks. If my rough draft gets approved, they will return my sketch in a red envelope. If it doesn't get approved, then they will return it in a blue envelope. If I get the former, then I have a few more weeks to complete my work before returning it again. But only this time, it is going to get judged with other comics. Each comic has separate divisions on genre. There are only about three comics per category. That means that my chances become slim. Nevertheless, if I get qualified, then I am in the final process. The third and final step is when it is going to be judged at the comic book convention. The website does confirm that there will be representatives from publishing companies, but no further information of who. The judges will pick one comic from each category and will display their winner.

This is a process that requires much concentration. And I still don't have any idea on what to create. I know that I want my story to be based on a superhero, for now. Hopefully looking at the macabre, dark humor of _Deadpool_ and the courageous wisdom of _Spider-Man_ gives me the motivation to create something.

_Mental note: Before leaving the bookstore, grab a copy of Assassination Classroom and The World God Only Knows. Even though I have the complete edition of the latter, but Mr. Huggins acquired the additional omake of the final volume._

_Mental note completed._

_P.S. I still need to have Juri take me to the pharmacy to get a pregnancy test. I know that this should be a concern. A very strong concern. I hope that she doesn't mind to wait a little bit longer._

_Mental note completed._

"Linky, where are you," cries Juri.

"I am back here," I tell her.

Juri and Clyde find me to see what I am doing.

"Are you looking for sources of inspiration," questions Juri as she is waving her hair.

My pride takes me. "As a matter of fact, I am." I pull the folded piece of paper of the competition and give it to Clyde. Clyde looks over it while Juri peers from behind.

"There is a Comic-Con coming to Detroit," exclaims Clyde with excitement.

"There is," I say. "Mrs. A gave me the lowdown about it. But there is more. Look at the back."

Clyde looks at the paper and scans through it. His eyes widen when seeing the part of the competition for best artwork. He looks at me.

"I see the look in your eye," says Clyde with a smirk. "You want us to be in that competition."

"What competition," asks Juri.

Clyde displays the flyer to Juri. "Oh, my God," she cries. "I saw this online on 4chan. Rumors have it that publishing companies are going to be out there."

"True," I retort. "This is a great opportunity to put ourselves out there."

"I agree," says Juri. "You should do it."

"That is right," I tell her. I face Clyde. "Mrs. A is gonna waive the fee for us also."

"No way," screams Clyde. He turns to Juri. "God, I love your mother, my aunt."

"She is my one and only," she says while smiling. "Otakus don't fall far from the tree."

"And by tree, you mean the electronics district in Akihabara," I tell her with snickering.

"Hey," she protests. "That is the place where my mom and dad met."

I wipe my fake tear from my eye. "Relax, Jules. Remember I am an otaku as well. I just have a different ring to it."

She grabs my forehead to give me a noogie. "You better thank God that I like you."

"Uncle, uncle," I tell her. I don't want to tell her that her breast is pressing hard against my head. Juri is very tall for a woman. I also think that she still doesn't know her own strength. "Uncle, uncle. I give, I give."

"Apology accepted," she says with a pout. "Now you owe me and Clyde here a milkshake at the arcade."

"You better listen to her, Linc," says Clyde. "Or else."

We are still snickering before we get a knock on the shelf from Mr. Huggins. "Excuse me from disturbing this lovely moment, but they are here."

Juri is shaking in excitement. She comes and hugs me. "Wish me luck." She goes to Clyde and kisses him on his forehead before heading to the front of the store. We watch as Juri meets two men wearing casual clothing. They tell her that they represent Dark Horse. Juri explains that they can talk in Mr. Huggins' office. She says that her material is inside there. They follow her into the office. Mr. Huggins follows them before facing us.

"You guys wouldn't mind taking charge, would you?" He tells us.

"No problem," says Clyde. "Not our first time running the Frontier."

"Excellent," says Mr. Huggins. "Wish her luck." He crossed his fingers and closes the door. We walk to the counter and sit behind the register.

Friday afternoons are typically slow, for many go to the theater, the mall, and go to the city for entertainment. I don't care. This place is my sanctuary, a home away from home. With the place becoming quiet, my thoughts of Ronnie Anne begins to resurface.

"Linc, Linc," says Clyde. "Are you listening?"

He gives me an inquisitive look. I am still puzzled. "Is something on your mind, Linc?"

I am silent, but enough to know that can tell that something is on my mind. "Hey, Linc, you don't have to say more. I think I can take a good guess on why you want to the pharmacy store."

I open my mouth, but words can't be produced.

"Come here, man," he tells me as I wrap my arms around him. Tears begin to fall and he rubs my back. "It's okay, bro." He tells me. "It's okay, bro. Let it out."

"Sorry that I didn't say anything."

"Linc, it's okay. I had a feeling that you were off today."

"You did?"

"Yeah, bro. You're my best friend. Of course, I knew something was off."

"Yeah."

"And to be honest. I sort of knew that Ronnie Anne was having those symptoms."

"How did you guess?"

"My dad used to be a nurse. He keeps medical books in his study." I watch him lean back and take a few breaths. "Plus, he told me stories of being with the women during their process."

I have taken sexual education classes. Along with Clyde and Ronnie Anne. However, we ignored the important parts of sexual reproduction and just focused on the sex. I used to use my fingers to pretend that I was practicing intercourse. We just snickered anytime we heard words like _vagina, penis, venereal disease, condom, sperm,_ and _sexual intercourse._ There was an astounding roar whenever we heard our teacher say the word, _masturbation._

Clyde interrupts my thoughts. "Let's not talk about this right away," he says. "After this, let's go to the pharmacy and pick up a pregnancy test."

"I am scared," I tell him. "What if people find out?"

"Linc, as your friend I must say you are last to think about that," says Clyde.

"Clyde, I…," I try to say but he interjects.

"Put yourself in the position of Ronnie Anne," he tells me. "I won't be surprised that it has been her calling you."

"What makes you think…" I stop when he shows me his phone.

"Ronnie Anne called me earlier. She wanted to know if I have heard from you."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I told her that I was spending the day with Jules."

I can feel somewhat of relief. Somewhat, somewhat. "To the store?"

He shakes his head. "To the store." He puts his hand on my shoulder. "Understand that I will be there to have your back. I am going to be there to have her back. And _you_ are going to be there to have her back." He cracks his knuckles.

"She didn't make that baby alone." He turns away from me. "We were all in class that day when we laughed at the videos. We were in Biology class when they talked about this again." He took another breath. "I was there in class when she gave you that note on if you guys wanted to do it."

The bell chimes and in comes a few customers.

"Let's talk about that later," replies Clyde as he puts on a face to welcome their patronage. Clyde is my wingman. An angel in my eyesight. A true friend indeed. Since growing up with him, he has become more outspoken. I guess he gets it from his father. I put on a smile and try my hardest to keep a good vibe on this place.

" _Hi, welcome to the Final Frontier."_


End file.
